


Je ne sais quoi

by zempasuchil



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zempasuchil/pseuds/zempasuchil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mishalecki pranktimes on set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Je ne sais quoi

**Author's Note:**

> for belledewinter in the lj comm jaredmisha Mishaleckipalooza exchange! Based on the prompt "Jared has a thing for Castiel. Or, Misha has it for Sam. Nothing but an advantage" -- while it never fully lost some of that element, it basically just became all pranks all the time. thanks to lj user gold_bluepoint for the beta!

“Yeah, but it, it lacks that je ne sais quoi, you know? He’s got a little something special on me. I don’t know what it is. Damn him.”  
— Misha Collins, on if he teases Jared back on set.

  
Jared is literally chewing scenery right now. Misha is trying to deliver a line and, of course, Jared's got that belt in his mouth, flicking his tongue out occasionally, clenching his jaw and flexing his throat muscles. It is not the worst thing that Jared has done, but it is the end of a long day of scenery-chewing and face-pulling and off-camera footsie, so Misha would rather that Jared just put a foot on his balls again and get the teasing over with.

The fourth take and Castiel ends up looking either scary or constipated, as Misha has to keep looking serious instead of very turned on. When they call it a wrap, Misha sighs.

"Hey buddy," Jared says, walking up behind him and squeezing his shoulder. "Why the long face?"

"You are a terror," says Misha, and then Jared squeezes his ass. Misha bites his lip. "A terror," he repeats, and Jared laughs low.

"I bet," he says closer to Misha's ear, and this is hardly fair, they've stopped rolling, shouldn't this be the end of a long day?

The next chance Misha gets, he's going to stick his tongue in Jared's ear. Then Jared'll see who's the terror.

-

Misha doesn't have an ounce of shame. He's been quite sure of this for a while now, testing the theory now and again, but somehow Jared manages to be the exception to this rule. He would think two guys as brazen and absurd as each other would never encounter the awkward zone. It would be the perfect game of gay chicken - well, that seems to be the closest approximation of their on-set game. It would be all fun but defused before it meant anything serious, and that leaves them a lot of room. So when Jared catches Misha staring at his ass in this scene (Sam is leaning over the bar and says something tactical and placating to the bartender, who Dean has just hit on unwelcomely), Misha knows that the joke's on him.

They call cut and Jared pops his ass and smacks it for Misha's benefit, looking right at him, and Misha finds that when he licks his lips exaggeratedly he's actually being quite sincere about it. Well. That wasn't entirely expected. But it's nothing Misha can't handle, right?

-

The next morning, Jared's going over the script on set, and Misha sneaks up behind him and sticks his tongue in Jared's ear.

"Augh!" Jared jerks away and Misha dodges an elbow. "Oh. Mornin', Misha."

Misha would be disappointed by the lack of response, but he has also taped a picture of Jared's face pasted onto a moose's head on Jared's back while Jared was distracted.

-

Misha is sure Jared thinks this is all no big deal. At first it's gay chicken as always, and Jared is making kissy faces at both his nose-wrinkling costars once they cut. Misha's really starting to feel like one of the guys, as good a target as Jensen, and then gradually Jared seems to get that Misha can be a better target because he gives back. It's just the encouragement Jared's asking for. Jensen is probably relieved that he's not the one whose phone Jared took and tried to call China with, and that he wasn't the recipient of a billion text messages in three minutes.

"I told him to stop pulling your pigtails," Jensen says as Misha receives the last letter of "happy arbor day, dmitri tupperware krushnik".

"Isn't he the one with pigtail hair?" But of course he sees what Jensen means when he runs into Jared a few hours later, and the look on Jared's face is glowingly pleased. It's not that Misha isn't mad, just that this isn't exactly being mad, and the zing back at Jared when Misha tells him about the costs to send texts stokes the warm glow going inside. It is just the sort of glow an elaborate and drawn-out game of back and forth brings up in Misha's gut, and he is aware of how ambiguous that sounds, and he _likes_ it.

-

Misha is pretty good at pulling Jared's pigtails. Jared just makes it hard to get there, to where Misha has any kind of advantage. Fortunately, they're drunk, which happens to be a sweet spot for Misha's unfiltered cunning and a slow spot for Jared's recovery time.

Misha figures Jared's had like, seven drinks maybe, when Jared tries standing up from his chair. Misha, already standing, just puts his arm on Jared's shoulder and shoves down so Jared can't stand up. Jared looks surprised when he seems him there, tries again, and Misha pushes him down again.

"Dick," Jared says, wobbly and indignant.

And Misha, towering over (which is quite nice), says, "Watch this." Puts the heel of his palm gently against Jared's forehead. Jared's got his feet on the floor, good. "Bet you can't get up now. Try it."

"What's that for?" Jared's looking crosseyed up at Misha's hand, and Misha snorts. "You gonna knock me out, Cas?" But of course Jared can't get up. It's one of those parlor tricks, and Misha's surprised no one's tried pulling it on him before "Jesus, I'm not that drunk. What the hell?"

Misha just looks down at him, thoroughly smug, and all of it - the alcohol, the frustration, all that - Misha can just see it riling Jared up, making him flush when he's already broken into a sweat. Jared practically headbutts Misha's hand, but Misha's got a pretty solid stance here, so Jared's head only bounces off.

"You never seen that before? I learned it when I was, like, five. I'd think everyone'd be trying to pin a big guy like you down with it."

"Oh, you're trying to pin me down, are you?" Instead of wiggling out from underneath like Misha expects him to, Jared leers. And now Misha's sort of - well.

"Y'all are too drunk for this," says Jensen, who seems to have come back from wherever he was, and Misha supposes with sudden self-awareness that Jensen is right.

-

"That's not a word," Jared says.

"Of course it's a word. You used it last week."

"I think it stopped being a word," Jared mumbles, staring at his tiles.

"Don't be an ass," Misha says mildly.

"But I have to! You're currently winning, so I have to do everything I can to tear you down. I think you should go get that Scrabble dictionary, Misha."

Misha grumbles. "I bet Sam Winchester knows more words than you." He plays with a tile between his fingers.

"You'd really cream your panties over _that_ game, wouldn't you?" Jared says.

Misha looks up sharply. Jared's still staring at his tiles, but when his eyes flick up he smirks, and damn if there isn't a flash of heat in those crinkled eyes.

"Yeah, big college boy words! You want me to read you the dictionary? No, no, you'd want Sam to read you the dictionary. Mm, gotta get my hands on an OED. Or law school vocab."

Jared spends the next few days suggestively whispering things like _sub judice_ and _isomorphism_ and _omnis immundus spiritus_ in Misha's ear, whether or not Misha sees it coming. When he puts a hand in front of Jared's face Jared just talks against his palm, and Misha bears with the brush of his lips and occasional tiny lick, and grimaces, and is privately thoroughly turned on.

-

Jared sends him an autographed picture of his ass in Sam's jeans - yeah, yeah, Misha knows Sam's jeans from Jared's. Misha reciprocates with a picture of him wearing the Castiel costume - sans pants.

The next day, Jared gets Jensen to join him in miming drawn-out blowjobs behind the camera while they're filming Misha's coverage.

A couple days later, just when Jared might start to forget the back-and-forth they had going on, Misha's sitting in the Impala with Jared right outside. Jared's not looking, so Misha puts his mouth all wide on the window, and knocks to get Jared's attention. His lips are gaping round on the inside of the glass, and Jared is standing right there, just outside, with Misha's mouth at crotch level - the effect is not lost on Jared, who jumps a little when he looks. Misha waggles his eyebrows. Jared's eyes are wide and his mouth's hanging open for a second, before he laughs, but Misha notices.

Misha's got nothing on Jared, though, when Jared grabs Misha's head and goes for his mouth. Jared's just got something on him. He's a prankish visionary, a man with nerves of steel, an adrenaline junkie who gets his kicks from absurd flirting. No, Misha can't beat Jared's thing for trying to kiss his costars, so he'll just have to content himself with playing footsie under a table when he can. He's halfway up Jared's calf when the director calls cut, and Misha gets a little satisfaction from the shaky breath Jared takes before he accuses Misha of being a tease. Hey, he never claimed to be original; at this point he's just going for "effective".

-

After receiving a fifth email full of stills from Sam's sex scenes, Misha pulls out his last weapon. He calls Jared when he knows he's probably free, and clears his throat.

"Hey Mish," says Jared. "Get those pictures I sent you?"

"You should show me some respect," Misha growls in his Castiel voice.

Jared chokes and sputters a little. "Ha-hey, don't wear that out, you've got a soliloquy later."

"I've done many... regrettable things," Misha says, low and nearly soundless, and oh god this is the best, Jared's laughing but he's also audibly squirming. "I don't want you to be one of them."

"Oh," says Jared. "Um. Nope." He breathes into the phone kinda heavy. Misha is suddenly aware he's starting to too, and instead of stopping he amps it up.

"Sam, I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. I expect a little thanks."

"Uh huh," says Jared. "Huh?"

"I could put you right back in there."

"Tell me this is your sex voice," Jared says suddenly.

"My what?" Misha says. Still with the Cas voice - he hasn't lost control, no way.

"Seriously, this. This is probably what you sound like when you've just had some really loud sex. How do you do it? Do you work yourself up before a scene and play off the frustration? Or maybe you -"

"That's for me to know," Misha growls. "And for you to find out." He hangs up before Jared can start describing his fantas- no, of course it's not his fantasy, but before he starts in on the graphic stuff Misha has to hang up, or else he'll have another challenge to rise to, and Misha doesn't have a lot more intermediate steps.

-

It turns out that Jared was also out of intermediate steps, and when Misha opens his trailer door, still in costume (not planned, completely legit, he'd only just gotten back from doing a scene), Jared doesn't shove past him but shoves him in, kicking the door shut behind and crowding him up against the wall.

"You're crazy, man," Jared says. "You are really, really weird."

"Watch it," Misha rumbles. "Boy." Apparently that's enough for Jared, who grabs the trenchcoat lapels, and Misha takes it as a cue to mash his mouth against Jared's.

And Jared is legit kissing back. _Holy cow,_ thinks Misha. Then, _Holy_ cow. This is 100% insane and therefore insanely awesome and he is actually feeling a little wobbly when they pull apart.

"So this is your plan?" Jared pants into his face, his voice a little high. Misha doesn't feel embarrassed for him at all.

"My plan." Misha's not about to deny any allegations of being a mastermind. He is, after all, the Overlord.

"Your plan. Get me to play gay chicken with you till we - we - till we crash our bikes into each other." Jared's a little distracted by Misha pressing his hip up between his legs. He bites his lip, and then, thinking better of it, bites Misha's lip. Misha hisses. It's a good hiss.

"Is that some hip new term for frottage?" Misha asks when Jared lets go, and Jared's laugh hitches into a groan and more heavy breathing down Misha's neck when Misha goes for his belt.

-

The next morning, Misha finds himself out-masterminded when he checks his twitter. Someone has posted a picture with the tweet "spending hiatus doing Sam Winchester, see you in season 7". And in the picture, Sam's jeans and coat and Castiel's trench lying rumpled on the floor of his trailer.

Misha just tweets "Happy hiatus, minions" and goes to find what Jared's done with Castiel's belt.

 

 


End file.
